A/N: More information this way comes... thanks for reading!
Minerva stirred her tea absently, one ear listening to Maria Podmore regale her with stories of her brother and his children from her recent vacation, the other distantly absorbing the ambient sounds of Muggle London.
She had always appreciated the Podmore's for wanting to indulge her Muggle half. Unlike Arthur Weasley whose peculiar fascination with all-things-Muggle felt naïve and rather trite at times, Sturgis was well versed in Muggle culture on account of his earlier days in the Auror offices.
In the past several years, Minerva had been pleased to discover that the wizard was a rather proficient cook and was always interested in sharing his culinary finds in the Muggle world with others. Their infrequent meetings on Order business had always been scheduled in the thick of Muggle cities and towns and Sturgis had a remarkable knack for choosing out-of-the-way places that Minerva would quickly come to love.
Minerva had met Maria outside a lovely Thai restaurant in Kensington and they had worked their way through a number of appetizers and smaller side dishes while chatting over a number of innocuous topics - the younger woman daringly adding hot chili paste to almost everything. There was an ease that Minerva felt with the Podmore's - Maria had attended Beauxbatons and while Sturgis had once been her student, he had never lauded her with unnecessary deference nor shied away from her formidable public persona. He was professional but also kind, which had been part of the reason she had so readily acquiesced to his cryptic demands the night previous.
It would have been a wonderful luncheon… had the true reason for their meeting not been swirling through the back of her mind like an ominous Grim. Intuitively, Minerva knew that Maria was more than smart enough to put two and two together - a spontaneous invitation to lunch with the current Headmistress of Hogwarts was no small matter, though she had been impressed when the witch had taken it in stride and made no indication that she was prepared to ask after either her or Sturgis' reasoning.
A glance at the time indicated the hour was drawing close to two and Minerva felt a small flutter in her stomach as the time slowly slid away… she needed to solidify her plan… and soon.
Fortunately, Maria seemed to be more than ready to provide her with the opening she needed. The witch subtly turned the conversation to the coming weeks and mentioned offhandedly how lonely it could be now that Sturgis was forced to take longer shifts into the midnight hours as the Ministry worked its way toward the end of their fiscal year. It seemed all of the departments were on edge to complete budgetary requirements on time (Minerva was forced to swallow a wry smile - now that she could relate with).
Minerva promptly insisted that Maria come over for a late dinner at the Manse - waving away the woman's concerns about imposing upon her time. They chatted amicably for a few more minutes before Minerva easily picked up the check, handling the Muggle money with familiarity that floated back from childhood.
It was then that Maria folded her hands across the table and pinned her with a steely gaze.
"Thank you, Minerva," the witch said seriously, and instantly Minerva knew that the younger woman was not speaking of her footing the bill. Her heart twisted for the necessary deception and the witch's clear ease in going along with it. I see you are no stranger to secrecy, Maria...
"You are most welcome, Maria," Minerva replied quietly, infusing her words with a reassuring smile. Dark brown eyes met hers sadly and they both fell silent, allowing the unspoken understanding to float across the table and tinge the air with its melancholy presence.
I hope there shall come a day when we will all be free from these deceptions.
"I look forward to seeing you later this evening," she said eventually, moving to rise even as Maria's eyes glittered in a bright way that Minerva fought to ignore.
"As do I," Maria replied, her voice surprisingly steady. "You are a good friend, Minerva."
Even as they departed, Minerva couldn't help but think that true friends would never have allowed such a deception to occur in the first place.
I hope you know what you're doing, Sturgis.
The sun was bright upon the white sand beach and despite the chillier breeze rolling in from the channel between Kato Koufonisi and the next island of Keros, Hermione had holed up beneath a makeshift lean-to… tucked beneath the shade of gold rocks as painfully blue waters lapped at the small cove in a quiet rhythm.
She had started on the other side of the island facing north toward Naxos, but the familiar outline of her home had felt like a weight. Eventually Hermione had Apparated to the south side, a short distance away from a small local town that she could walk to later if she was hungry.
Keros loomed across a small straight, dotted with scrub trees and heather in a desolate, uninhabited way that was much like Koufonisi itself. Hermione had always liked the island for its solitude. During the summer months it had been a more popular vacationing spot, but now that the weather was turning, the island was populated by only a scattering of people - the majority of whom were hippies and easy-going locals that never seemed to question Hermione's inexplicable appearances given that there were only two ferries arriving to the port on any given day.
Even though she didn't expect to be interrupted, Hermione had cast a Disillusionment Charm over her small hideaway… feeling more at peace with her thoughts and more able to focus on the tasks that still lay before her.
She had begun the morning with a swim… slightly more cautious in her workout as she didn't know the waters quite as well. Afterward she had roamed aimlessly along the center of the island, traveling south a bit… trimming a few fragrant clusters of heather to give to Master Kallas later, and kicking around the pebbly dirt as her mind worked to unravel all of her unmade choices.
With a sigh, Hermione sat up - swinging lightly in her transfigured hammock as she placed a book on Interactive Probiotics on the stack near her satchel. Stifling a groan she scrubbed her hands over her face, noting the salty residue from the sea and a bit of discomfort across her cheeks which likely indicated she had gotten a small sunburn on account of the bright day.
Salazar's Snake… you forgot the UV charm again.
Grumbling to herself slightly, Hermione started digging in her satchel for a gentle version of burn paste before her ears picked up the distant sound of someone whistling.
Wand immediately in hand, she stood, stepping out from beneath the shady roof of her little tent, eyes scanning the cove suspiciously.
Her heartbeat quickened when she saw the glimpse of a dark figure descending the steep pathway from between craggy rocks that lead from higher ground. Hermione tightened her hand on her wand, already a breath away from packing up her things and departing. You're still Disillusioned… at least there's that.
Eyes wide, she nearly rolled them a second later… a smile already gracing her lips as she bounded beyond the boundaries of her charm.
"Yiayia! What are you doing here?"
The dark head looked up and Yiayia shaded her eyes for a moment before flinching theatrically, one hand flying to her chest.
"Goodness! There you are, my lovely! Dia told me I might find you here," Yiayia called cheerfully, as if walking along a beach in formal robes was a daily occurrence for her. Which, knowing Yiayia, maybe it is…
Hermione hurried over, at once slightly embarrassed to be in a simple black bikini against Yiayia's high-necked sapphire robes. She waved her wand absently to cancel the Disillusionment behind her.
"Forgive my outfit, darling. I just came from a meeting at the Hellenic Council… dreadfully boring, if I do say… I confess that I used the both of you as an excuse to leave early. Hippolyta knows that I've sat through my fair share of idiotic discussions," Yiayia said, drawing up short and sighing.
"Can I… er… get you anything?" Hermione asked, not quite sure what to do with herself in the presence of the elegant woman. Her eyes took in the witch's bare feet and the way her robes were charmed to repel the sand as she began marching toward the shady area where Hermione had been studying. Yiayia simply ignored her question.
"What a lovely spot you've found!" Yiayia remarked, smiling broadly as she clucked over Hermione's small camp with delight. The witch quickly waved a hand and organized a second hammock, the ivory macrame swinging in the breeze as they strode over.
Hermione fought not to blush, realizing her arrangement was likely quite quaint in the other witch's eyes. After her ventures with the boys, she still gave little thought to physical comfort when left to her own devices.
"Be a dear and help me with these robes?" Yiayia asked in a suffering voice, already unbuttoning the high collar with a grimace. Unsure of how to help without invading the woman's space, Hermione conjured a small coat stand to place at the end of the second hammock, jumping slightly when the heavy robes were quickly banished to hang in a colorful bundle.
"Ahhh… that's better," Yiayia sighed, falling into the hammock rather indelicately.
Hermione tried not to stare.
It was… strange. Rationally she knew that Yiayia had to have been several decades older than Master Kallas at the very least. The smaller tells were there. Chin-length black curls boasted one shock of bright silver along the right temple and the clear eyes were framed by a smattering of laugh lines and other wrinkles...
But gazing at the woman in front of her, it was as though Hermione couldn't quite see Yiayia's age. The woman wore a short sleeveless dress - ivory edged in ornate sapphire flowers… and her skin and body seemed remarkably untouched. She could have been staring at Minerva's body… or Master Kallas'… or her own for that matter… except for the lighter olive complexion and more curvaceous figure. She is a witch, I guess.
"Admiring my beauty?"
Yiayia was giving her a coy look, Hermione jumped, quickly moving over to her own hammock and settling quickly, placing her hands on her knees.
"I… uh… no, ma'am… I mean - yes! No!"
"Calm down, child. I'll explain in a moment," Yiayia chuckled, moving slightly to cross her legs and gaze at Hermione seriously. She fought not to blush, mentally kicking herself for the stuttering start to their conversation.
"How are you?"
The simple question seemed infused with far too many interpretations.
"Confused," Hermione answered honestly, after a moment. She decided to focus on the woman's face which was less disconcerting than her youthful body. Yiayia smiled slightly, tilting her head back to rest in the hammock as she regarded Hermione with lidded eyes.
"Do you know what I am, my dear?"
"... a witch?" Hermione answered slowly, not entirely sure what she was being asked of her. Is this a trick question on her appearance?
Yiayia chuckled and shook her head.
"No, no… have you discerned yet what it is that I do? Or, rather… did? I suppose I do consider myself retired," Yiayia said, waving a hand slightly as her nose wrinkled. Hermione frowned, realizing that she hadn't the slightest clue.
"Master Kallas has never indicated your profession," she replied quietly, wondering where the witch was going with their conversation. She wondered if it was a piece of information she should have divined already, but realized she was too tired to care. Merlin, I've had just about enough of these clandestine conversations.
"Take a guess," Yiayia said, extending a long arm and pushing off the rocky outcropping to swing the hammock slightly. Although everything in the casual countenance suggested the elder witch was settling in to relax, something in the set of her lips seemed to indicate that she was presenting Hermione with a challenge. Another lesson…
Suddenly feeling slightly obstinate, Hermione sighed heavily, trying to ignore the small voice in the back of her mind that suggested she was being petulant.
"Well… you seem to know quite a bit about everything," Hermione replied honestly after a moment, willing herself to focus on the question.
"Though I would guess that maybe you have a Mastery in Transfiguration from witnessing how you conjure things so easily. And from your continued involvement in the Hellenic Council, I would also guess that you've either served upon it some sort of official capacity, or you're some sort of independent contractor with a specific skill-set that continues to be of use to them."
Yiayia nodded easily, letting her focus drift over toward the pile of books beneath Hermione's hammock.
"Dia tells me that you were surprised to learn of Atlantis."
It wasn't quite a question. Hermione blinked, unsure of what to make of the non sequitur.
"Yes… I mean, of course I had heard legends of it as a child… but it was not taught in the standard curriculum at Hogwarts," she answered.
"Pity," Yiayia replied seriously, her brow furrowing. With a sigh she twisted her lips slightly. "Do you know what Atlantis is known for?"
Hermione shrugged, feeling remarkably uninterested about the island that had so recently captured her attentions. Your emotions are all over the map… Yiayia's going to see through you, you know.
"From what little I've been able to read, I know that it's now the seat of the ICW's headquarters and the organizations numerous offices and offshoots. The capitol Aetherion seems to be one of the grandest testaments to Wizarding Architecture which was half the reason the island was hidden…"
Hermione trailed off, thinking of the mysterious city and the few sketches and diagrams she had seen. Something seemed to connect in her thoughts.
"You're an Architect!" she exclaimed, looking at Yiayia in awe. Bright magenta lips curled into a smile and Yiayia nodded her confirmation.
"That startling mind of yours is truly remarkable, my darling," she replied, sniffing lightly. Holding out a hand, a cup of steaming coffee appeared. A silver spoon glinted slightly as it self stirred and Hermione simply stared, a number of questions suddenly wiping the apathy from her mind. I never thought I would get a chance to meet a living Architect!
"What do you know of the Architecture Guild?" Yiayia asked after a moment, her clear tones cutting across the waves in the background and through Hermione's whirling thoughts.
"Well… from my basic understanding, the Guild is similar to a Society, but with different rules… I suppose I don't quite understand the distinction," she replied, leaving the statement open in case Yiayia wanted to interject, but the witch just nodded.
"And?"
Hermione twisted her lips, brows drawing together as she reviewed what little she had read about the secretive organization.
"Well… Architecture is one of the most complicated disciplines in existence for the sheer amount of comprehensive knowledge that one must acquire. It is a highly secretive profession and requires a significant understanding of Transfiguration, Charms, Arithmancy, and Runes for a good deal of the practical components, but also demands an understanding of Magical History, Electromagical Energies, and the basic Muggle disciplines of physics and design. Sometimes also Astronomy, Necromancy, Neuromancy, and Herbology."
"Mmm… good. It seems you've divined the basics," Yiayia said, relaxing slightly and sipping her coffee. She smacked her lips for a moment before pinning Hermione with a narrowed gaze.
"Now, I gather you've fled the villa because you're at a loss for whether or not to remain with my niece and finish your studies… or whether to rejoin the Order of the Phoenix back in Great Britain."
Hermione blinked again, suddenly realizing how drained she felt. Yiayia was jumping from topic to topic in a manner that was beginning to grate on her mind. She chose not to reply, biting her lip instead and looking out toward the blue sea. The familiar sight was calming.
"Don't feel guilty for your thoughts, my darling," Yiayia murmured quietly, spoon clinking against her teacup with a silvery sound. "Now… might I also gather that Dia has presented you with a rather challenging ultimatum?"
Hermione sighed, feeling tears prick the corners of her eyes as she sank back into her hammock slightly, pushing the sand away with her toes. The gentle rocking motion was helpful.
"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Yiayia said, shifting to swing her legs off the hammock and look at Hermione more directly.
"I cannot claim to know your thoughts, child… however I wonder if I might shed some light on your situation that may provide a bit more clarity for you?"
Hermione laughed mirthlessly and nodded, wiping her eyes even as she gave the witch next to her a beseeching look.
"Please," she whispered, forcing a smile even as her lips trembled. "Right now I think I need all the advice I can get."
Yiayia reached out and grasped her hand for a moment, squeezing it gently in a way that suddenly had Hermione wiping her eyes again. The small gesture was more reassuring than she had anticipated. Merlin, you're falling apart.
"I'm going to tell you a little bit about everything," Yiayia said after a moment, her cup of coffee suddenly nowhere in sight. "A little bit about me, a little bit about you, and a little bit about my niece."
Hermione nodded her understanding, folding her legs into the hammock so that she could sit cross-legged while she listened. Another story she could handle; it was the making decisions part that gave her stress.
Yiayia gave her a soft smile and flicked a finger, conjuring a large pillow in Hermione's lap so that she could lean her elbows on it more comfortably.
"Let us go back a number of years… to the end of the First Wizarding War," Yiayia began, her eyes narrowing even as her focus slid beyond Hermione to where the rocks began to rise upwards in a striated wall. Merlin, she's an Architect! I'm talking to an Architect!
"I was still relatively active within the Guild and our role in the War was… complicated. My niece was firmly ensconced in Great Britain, studying beneath Minerva McGonagall who I assume you know well… and serving the illustrious Order of the Phoenix."
There was just a hint of sarcasm coloring Yiayia's voice and Hermione briefly wondered about the witch's own opinions regarding the events of the past.
"Minerva said that Master Kallas was betrayed at the end of the War," Hermione said softly, trying to remember. "She said that… the enemy managed to use your family against her. And that whatever happened caused her to drop out of the Order and return to Greece."
If Yiayia was surprised that Hermione had already heard some of the story, she hid it well. Light eyes found hers immediately, but their contents were difficult to discern. Hermione thought that the witch might've been regretful.
"It is not my place to discuss those events," Yiayia said sadly. "However, you must understand the effect that those events had upon my niece in order to understand her reasoning for what she asks of you now."
"Do you not trust Minerva?" Hermione interjected curiously. Something in the witch's tone of voice from before seemed to suggest that there were complications in that relationship.
"I would trust Minerva with my life," Yiayia replied, closing her eyes briefly. "You mistake my personal feelings for her to be a comment upon her integrity. I do not question that at all. We are merely vastly different personalities that do not always mesh very well. Perhaps our relationship would be different now."
Hermione nodded at that, a bit surprised that the other witch knew Minerva well enough to speak such a personal truth. She could just imagine Yiayia's outgoing personality and forthrightness meeting a challenging match against the intimidating and stoic Headmistress of Hogwarts. She almost chuckled trying to picture the two of them in a room together. Sparks would fly at the very least…
"Minerva was faced with difficult decisions during that time and her role in Diamantina's life was fulfilled to its purpose. They both learned a great deal from each other and grew marvelously as a result of their shared time."
Yiayia waved a hand as if clearing smoke and Hermione wet her lips, nodding as she agreed to let that point go.
"What I need you to understand, is that in the aftermath of those terrible terrible days, Diamantina fell into a great depression. Her faith in her friends was shattered… her faith in her way of life, her goals, truths about the world - everything. They managed to break her spirit, if you can imagine such a thing… and the process she went through to rebuild it was far from easy."
"What happened?" Hermione whispered, almost afraid to hear the answer. Yiayia gave her a long look as if to assess her readiness before charging on.
"At first Diamantina returned to Greece. The environment was far safer here, though I imagine the juxtaposition between war-torn Britain and the peaceful island was almost harder for her to bear," Yiayia said. Silently, Hermione had to agree.
"She had served on the Hellenic Council prior to her apprenticeship with Minerva. It was an unprecedented appointment for one so young - she was little older than you, in fact, but she took to her duties with natural ease. It ruffled many feathers when she chose to leave and pursue her Transfiguration Mastery, and so for many… her return from Great Britain seemed to be cause for celebration. Many assumed she would take up her previous position immediately and there were more than a few clamoring for her to ascend to the role of Council Leader."
"But she didn't, did she?"
"Indeed not."
Yiayia's voice was low and Hermione was struck by how seriously the witch was attending to their current conversation. The effusive mannerisms and warm asides she had come to associate with the witch were nowhere to be found.
"Diamantina returned to our family a broken witch…" Yiayia's eyes fluttered and she dropped her chin to look at her hands which were twisting her lap. "I admit, neither I nor my sister were in a position to help her. Her mother was beside herself in grief and I was too busy answering to the Guild to help my niece readjust to life at home. It is a time I greatly regret… and I shall always be forced to wonder if Diamantina would be a different woman today if had I taken the time to intervene."
It seemed rather large burden to take upon oneself and Hermione found herself frowning, hard-pressed to imagine how Yiayia could blame herself so fully… and for what? Master Kallas is a remarkable person… why would she want to change anything?
Yiayia sniffed and looked out along the beach, one glistening trail working its way down the side of her cheek.
"Dia was home for less than two weeks. And then she disappeared."
Hermione sat back at that, but before she could ask where the witch had gone, Yiayia sniffed and gave a mirthless chuckle.
"No one… and I mean no one knows where Diamantina went. She will not speak of it. Not even to this day."
Yiayia sat forward and extended a hand into the space between them, palm down toward Hermione. Her expression was solemn.
"I entreat you not to ask about it, Hermione. Wherever she went, it is a place and time in her life of which she is not proud. It causes her great pain to recall it… and for her sake, I encourage you to respect her privacy."
Light hazel eyes were regarding her in a mix of pain and pleading. Feeling her heart pounding in her throat, Hermione gave an emphatic nod. Gods… what happened to her?
"Do you have… any idea what might have happened to her during that time?" Hermione asked quietly. Yiayia pursed her lips for a moment before continuing as if she hadn't heard the question.
"Diamantina was gone for close to eight months. She returned abruptly when my sister - her mother passed away… when it became clear that there was no one to care for her older sister's children. I was the next in line to take them, but Dia appeared out of nowhere and insisted."
It took a moment for Hermione to understand the family relationships that Yiayia was explaining. Older sister's children?
Her eyes widened.
"Master Kallas raised Ana?" Hermione asked incredulously. That would explain their close relationship… and maybe the disagreement I witnessed.
"Dia took charge of both Ana and her older brother, Konstantinos, whom I hear you will be meeting tomorrow for dinner. Lovely boy. You'll like him immensely," Yiayia explained with a sigh, recrossing her legs.
"She devoted herself toward educating the both of them… caring for them… nurturing them in a way that was almost militant in the demands upon her time, attention, and devotion. They became quite the trio for awhile and you've already seen how Angeliki still answers to her aunt with single-minded attachment," Yiayia sighed again, shaking her head. "She was just shy of ten years old when they lost their parents. Konstantinos had just come of age and was no stranger to what was happening abroad, but for Ana… it was a terrible blow."
"I… didn't know," Hermione whispered, trying to imagine the horror of losing one's family so young. Her parents first, it seems… and then not even a year later, her grandmother… all right before receiving her first wand.
"You have a remarkable ability for empathy, Hermione," Yiayia murmured, giving her a sad smile. "Consider it a gift… for there are many in this world who have no concept of trying to understand someone else's pain. However in this case, there is no need to feel guilty… nor to apologize for absorbing information and events that happened far before your time… and were entirely out of your control."
Hermione bit her lower lip and nodded, sniffing slightly as she worked to rein in her spiraling emotions. She's right. You can't apologize for the past… you can only listen and try to figure out what do about your future.
"I'm telling all of this to you, darling… not to confuse you further nor to sway you into remaining in place alongside my niece," Yiayia stated calmly, before wincing. "Well, maybe a little bit… I have grown rather fond of you."
The witch winked and Hermione chuckled, adjusting her legs to the left so that she could lean her elbow on the pillow and listen more comfortably.
"But, it seems to me that Dia has you at a disadvantage with her harsh proposal. You come from a place and a culture where things and people are bit more black and white… or, a bit more transparent, I might gather. Do you feel this is true?"
Hermione frowned, thinking about her final years Hogwarts. They had always possessed a very clear endgame - destroy Voldemort at all costs. Dumbledore's opaque instructions had led them into hazier areas, and the Ministry's involvement had certainly come as a rude awakening…
"Somewhat," she answered eventually. "I think the War taught me a great deal more about grey areas… but yes, I do think that the majority of my schooling at Hogwarts primarily saw me interacting with others who view the world as I do. We were… reckless at times. Self-righteous, even. Our goals were clear cut and we handled our way through trickier areas by simply blazing down the doors."
"Then it must be hard for you to trust someone who deals specifically in the grey," Yiayia put forth. Hermione wrinkled her nose, not entirely sure she agreed with the statement.
"Master Kallas is an enigma, at times," Hermione admitted, unsure of what to say. "But I've learned so much from her already…"
Yiayia remained silent, clearly waiting for her to work through the churning thoughts in her mind.
Hermione trusted Master Kallas. Everything she knew and understood and had experienced with the woman pointed to the fact that the witch was secretive, yes… but there had been nothing to indicate that the witch had anything but Hermione's well-being in mind. True, being left out of the loop was incredibly irritating, but Hermione supposed that in the course of her apprenticeship and during war for that matter, secrecy was sometimes paramount.
Just like Mastery societies in general… you knew what you were signing up for...
"I think I am less troubled by the fact that Master Kallas would traverse grey areas in order to achieve her goals than I am about the physical distance from the Order," Hermione said slowly, also absorbing how earnestly her statement rang true. Yes…
"You would willingly join the Order knowing that Diamantina could order you to withhold information from your childhood friends and mentors?" Yiayia asked seriously. Hermione bit her lip.
"Yes, I think I would," she replied honestly. I trust her...
"What if she asks you to withhold information that will result in loss of life?" Yiayia asked.
Hermione's eyes widened in horror.
"I… sh… she wouldn't!"
"Taking a leadership role in war means making choices that will undoubtedly trickle down and affect other lives. Sometimes the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few," Yiayia explained softly.
"What, are you Spock now?" Hermione asked bitterly, punching the pillow to adjust it as she shifted. Yiayia frowned in confusion and Hermione heaved a sigh.
"Why are you asking me these questions?" she pleaded instead, feeling more overwhelmed than she had a moment before.
"I'm playing the devil's advocate, Hermione, just so that you will have considered the ramifications of your choice… my agenda is my own. At the moment it simply seeks to help you clarify yours," Yiayia stated calmly, opening both hands in a casual gesture. Hermione's eyes narrowed. Why does every goddamn person have to have their own agenda?
"Why?" she snapped.
"A number of reasons, I suppose," Yiayia said, her musical tones drawn and serious. Light eyes pierced her own intensely.
"The first of which is that you are someone that my niece cares about… and she is currently unable to advise you in an impartial manner. The second is in regard to my own curious nature… you are a brilliant witch, Hermione, with a significant grasp of your magic. That is a powerful combination, and selfishly, I am curious as to whether or not I will have the continued opportunity of working with you and helping you develop your skills. The last reason I admit is completely self-serving…"
Yiayia spread her hands again, her gold rings twinkling as they caught a bit of sun.
"The quicker you make a decision, the quicker I can make decisions about how to handle my niece - choosing which tasks I can ask of her and which ones I cannot. Technically, if we boil it down to economics, you are Diamantina's boss. Your apprenticeship proceeds at your behest… not hers."
Hermione opened and closed her mouth, stunned at the notion.
"I hardly agree with that… I should like to think that Master Kallas and I are partners in many ways," she replied, somewhat irritated that Yiayia would distill their agreement down to its economics. Yes, my tuition pays her a bit of salary for teaching… but Master Kallas could dismiss me just as easily as I dismiss myself!
The magenta lips curved again and Yiayia sighed.
"I am old, darling. Despite what you see, I am not a spry as I once was and I need significant help to enact change in this complicated world. The Kefalas women have always been our own Order of sorts… and as I believe my niece may have mentioned, this particular plot which your friends in Great Britain are also assessing, happens to have a key tie to my own life. I simply wish to know whether or not I can count on Diamantina's presence or not."
"Do you not want us to rejoin the Order?" Hermione asked softly, afraid of the answer.
"You ask the wrong question, my darling," Yiayia said patiently, a touch of familiar warmth recoloring her tones. She gave Hermione a half-smile. "In my world and in Diamantina's, the Order of the Phoenix serves the same side that we do… as I imagine other organizations and alliances that will inevitably crop up will also, if we are to work beyond borders to counter this new threat."
Yiayia sat forward, pointing a ringed finger toward Hermione even as she pinned her with a steady gaze.
"The question you must ask yourself… is where do you wish to be when everything begins to quicken? Who do you wish at your side when it comes time for battle... when events begin to connect and join… it's the where that matters."
"Home," Hermione answered immediately before shaking her curls. "But that's selfish of me. If you were to ask the same question of Master Kallas, would she not answer 'home' as well?"
Yiayia's eyebrows rose thoughtfully and she sat back.
"I can't say I know for certain, my darling. Perhaps a question you should ask her," she replied lightly. At Hermione's dubious expression, Yiayia chuckled and shifted slightly so that she was closer to reclining on one side, her black curls fluttering in the breeze.
"Diamantina is a product of her experiences just as you are of yours. The last time she charged into a War heedless of the consequences, it cost her greatly in ways that can never be repaid. Her need for control comes from those experiences… and also, I believe, from whatever guilt she still harbors from that time she spent away from all of us. However, home in this instance does not give her the measure of control and involvement that the Order could offer. Greece will always be a bit by the wayside when it comes to world affairs, and though we are resourceful, the Kefalas women are considerably less organized and must operate much more carefully."
Hermione frowned as she processed that explanation. It made sense… and helped assuage her fears that she was going to end up dragging her Master into another War against her consent. But she was also reluctant to dismiss Greece as a potential breeding ground for trouble… it was, after all, home to one of the oldest and most well-documented civilizations on Earth.
However, Hermione elected to keep those thoughts to herself for the moment. Now who has her own agenda?
"You never answered my question from before… do you know where Master Kallas went after she left the Order? Before she settled in to raise her niece and nephew?" she asked eventually.
Yiayia's jaw worked for a moment and Hermione had the impression that the witch was surprised by the redirection.
"It is little more than an aunt's intuition, however I believe Diamantina was nearly seduced to the Dark side of magic," Yiayia replied heavily.
It was not at all the answer Hermione had expected.
"What?! But after all that had happened to her? Your family?!" she cried.
"What would your reaction have been if Death Eaters had torn your family asunder and burnt your goals and ideals into the earth?" Yiayia asked sharply, causing Hermione to flinch backward.
"I…" She swallowed heavily before blinking and setting her jaw. I.. understand.
"There's a good chance I would have wanted to exact revenge."
"Precisely," Yiayia whispered, her eyes full of pain. "Death and destruction… particularly when enacted with senseless violence force us to confront ourselves in the aftermath. Even the strongest of us are seduced by the temptation to strike back. And frequently, it's a reaction that serves us well… what better way to ensure our enemy's defeat than by destroying them in response?"
Yiayia shook her head, her countenance growing heavy.
"The problem occurs when the enemy doesn't fight fair… with zero regard for honor or integrity. Then what?"
Hermione listened with wide-eyes, head shaking slightly as she tried to imagine. She had nearly been presented with those circumstances during the final years of the War, but thankfully she had managed to protect her family… and the majority of her friends had lived. But… if anything had unfolded differently… Merlin above… 'then what' indeed?
"I don't know," she answered honestly. "I don't know what I would do."
"Fire is fought with fire. Water with water. Air with air. Earth with Earth," Yiayia whispered. "Sometimes we can rearrange the elements to balance the equation in different ways. Water cancels fire. Earth grounds air. The energy stabilizes. But what do you do, my child… when the elements are bent and warped? When your enemy perverts nature and crafts something unrecognizable that has no earthly business resounding in our world?"
"I-I don't know…" Hermione whispered again, afraid of the reply.
Yiayia blinked.
"Let us hope you shall never have cause to find out," she said seriously.
Hermione took a deep breath, her mind suddenly overwhelmed with the new information that Yiayia had just dealt her. The events of the Order meeting hung in the back of her mind like a dark backdrop against which to frame all of her impending choices.
Where do you want to be? That question seemed to have answered itself.
But... something still felt out of place.
"How do you relate to all of this, Yiayia?" Hermione asked suspiciously, sitting up to drape her legs over the edge of the hammock again.
"How do you mean?"
"You started this conversation by talking about the Architecture Guild… and all this history about Master Kallas and me being unfamiliar with indirect, shady pathways… and all the while you're telling me you want to help me because Master Kallas can't be impartial, when really… you're not doing a very good job of it either! You're just as wrapped up in all of this as the rest of us!"
Hermione was on her feet, one finger pointing accusingly at Yiayia who remained sprawled out in her hammock. She was suddenly irate beyond measure. Who does she think she is?
"Touché, my darling," Yiayia said, wincing slightly as she pressed herself up to sitting. Rather than rise to face Hermione directly, the older woman remained seated, looking up at her with a tired expression. Hermione was again disconcerted by the unnaturally youthful body before her.
"We have determined the heart of your struggle, Hermione. You must decide where you wish to situate yourself during this impending conflict," Yiayia summarized softly. "From there, your decision will trickle down to affect my niece, her niece, others in our family, and me, myself."
Hermione exhaled slowly, feeling an immense amount of pressure weigh down upon her. She folded her arms, still unwilling to let go of her irritation.
"There are some practical things to which I wish to draw your attention to and then I will answer your question as to my place in all of this."
Yiayia gestured toward her hammock and Hermione moved backward to sit again without breaking eye contact.
"Consider this, Hermione. Home is the location with which you wish to align yourself… surrounded by friends and mentors who likely fought at your side during the last War and with whom you could see yourself fighting again," Yiayia said, her voice gaining a bit more of the youthful energy that Hermione had come to appreciate.
"Imagine for a moment, that you finish your first classifications with my niece and decide to return home immediately after. What will you do?"
Hermione opened her mouth and blinked. What would she do? A first-classification was a stepping-stone but a rather small one. She could take a position at the Ministry, but it would be entry-level.
She didn't want to attend the Auror Academy. Which left pursuing her education in a different manner...
"I suppose I would perhaps ask to apprentice beneath Minerva," Hermione replied uncertainly, already feeling the threads of betrayal wind through her at the notion. You promised Master Kallas that you would re-evaluate your contract after your third classifications.
"Do you believe she would accept you?" Yiayia asked.
"Yes," Hermione replied without hesitation. But then she bit her lip. "Though… her role as Headmistress would leave little time to devote to our studies. It would be… slow, I suppose."
"Perhaps even more so if Minerva intends to continue leading the Order," Yiayia murmured thoughtfully. "Do you believe you would enjoy that?"
"No," Hermione whispered, feeling tears gather at the corners of her eyes. "But-"
"Was it difficult, last night? Arriving to the meeting in Great Britain?" Yiayia asked carefully.
"No, but-"
"Would you feel better attending Order meetings on your own terms?" the elder witch pressed.
"I… don't think so," Hermione breathed after a moment, feeling a wonderful wave of clarity sweep through her. Startled, she looked to Yiayia with wide eyes.
"As much as I thought it would make me more comfortable… I know that the Order will soon be split into the two generations. The majority of them still view me and my fellow friends as children. I imagine that it would be difficult for me to achieve a place of power within the Order... or for them to task me with information or missions that could be critical to our success."
"Let me ask one final question," Yiayia murmured, sitting forward and resting her elbows on her knees. "If you were to remain with Diamantina, do you think you would be more or less equipped to deal with whatever the Order intends?"
There's your answer.
Hermione was nodding to herself, suddenly sure of what she wanted.
You are better with Master Kallas than you are without her… you can do more to help the Order at her side than you can do alone.
"Thank you, Yiayia," Hermione said earnestly, smiling softly even as she continued worrying her bottom lip in her teeth. You have to stay. It's the best option and you know it's the right one.
The elder witch's face broke into a tired smile, but Hermione was pleased to see a bit more of the twinkle in the hazel gaze. Reaching out, she grasped the woman's smaller hand… surprised at both its strength and fragility.
"Now… I did promise to answer your question about me," Yiayia announced, sitting back and lifting a dark brow for a moment before pouting dramatically. "Unless you don't care anymore."
Hermione gave a short chuckle and wiped her hands over her face, feeling remarkably light and refreshed.
"Yes. I did. What are you up to, Yiayia? That was the least convincing conversation toward proving your impartiality in all this, and you've clearly managed to achieve your goal of making me stay with Master Kallas... so... why? Why does it matter to you? And what are you involved with that creates such cause to make it matter?"
With her decision still radiating at the back of her mind like a beacon of clarity, Hermione allowed herself to smile and sink back... burying her toes in the warm sand even as Yiayia tossed her a saucy grin.
She could do this.
It was the best of all worlds.